


Unexpected Memories

by jjmash



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Smallville, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:22:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22328536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjmash/pseuds/jjmash
Summary: Bruce experiences all of Clark's memories and it's not what he expected. Clark experiences all of Bruce's memories too.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 3
Kudos: 201





	1. Clark's Memories

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally a one shot, but I guess it's not anymore. Both of these were written very late at night going off my memory alone, so sorry if something isn't canon. I just like these two together :)

Bruce curled into the fetal position and slammed his hands to his ears as Clark’s memories came pouring in. He was seeing every moment that Clark had ever lived, feeling everything he had ever felt. For the first time, Bruce understood Superman–truly understood him. No amount of research he had done could have prepared him for this experience. Bruce saw everything.

It started with a blurry image of Martha and Jonathan Kent, looking down at him with a burning pickup truck in the background. Martha was saying something to him, something he couldn’t understand. And then Jonathan was wrapping him in a blanket and they were carrying him to the Kent farm. Bruce felt a wave of comfort roll over him as soon as they crossed the threshold of the big yellow farmhouse; he had never seen this place before, but already it felt like home.

Memories sped past after that, giving Bruce just brief glimpses of young Clark’s life: a little girl in a yellow dress, Clark accidentally breaking the kitchen table and his subsequent feeling of deep remorse, the taste of Martha Kent’s prize-winning chocolate chip cookies. And then he was falling, falling, falling into deep water, and he was pulling a man out of a sunken car–a young Lex Luthor, Bruce realized with surprise. And then the memories were speeding up again, and Bruce was hugging Lex like he was a brother and giving the best man speech at his wedding.

Lana Lang, who Bruce recognized from some of his early research on Clark Kent, popped up more than once: pining, kissing, touching. Bruce heard Jor-El’s voice, and felt it compelling him to leave Smallville. He felt Clark realize, for the first time, that he would probably never die. He imagined watching all his friends and family die. Bruce had just assumed that Clark had always known where he was from and what his powers meant. To think that he had gone through that realization alone–that confusion, that pain–was horrifying.

Bruce felt it all. All of teenage Clark’s angst and loneliness washed over him in waves. He fell into despair more than once, over football, over Lana, over his destiny. He watched people come into Clark’s life–Pete, Kyla, Alicia–only to leave it what seemed like moments later. Clark left the farm and his parents, and then he was in Metropolis; a small town boy trying to make it in the big city. The secrets still weighed on him, even more so now that he didn’t have Ma and Pa Kent to lean on.

Then suddenly he was back at the Kent farm, wearing his best suit and sitting in the front seat of his mother’s car. He saw Jonathan collapse in the beam of the headlights as though it were happening in slow motion. And then he was wearing that suit again, standing in front of his father’s grave and feeling like the world had just ended. He vaguely felt the snow land on his shoulders, felt it melt through the fabric of his shirt. Everything was cold. Eventually he felt warmth again, and the memories kept spinning past.

Lana was a feature, but then she just faded away. Later, Bruce knew, she would become Valkyrie. He watched Lex turn on him over the years, his brother becoming his worst enemy, and felt how that treachery nearly broke him. Lois moved to center stage, first as a source of annoyance and then friendly affection, and eventually, deep and immovable love.

Bruce saw Clark become Superman and felt his fear over one day doing more harm than good. And then he was seeing himself. Wearing an expensive suit, acting bored at a fundraiser. Clark probed him with questions, and he could feel the reporter’s annoyance at having to interview him. But then Clark had been surprised; Bruce had let his facade drop slightly, and Clark had picked up on it immediately. Bruce watched himself through Clark’s eyes, tracked his own movements through the party.

And then he was Superman, meeting Batman. He watched as their every moment together played out in front of him, and he felt Clark’s attitude toward him change. From frustration, anger, hostility to respect, admiration–love? And Bruce knew immediately–it hit him like a physical jolt–that he felt the same way. His deep-seated suspicion of Superman had been replaced with an obvious affection for Clark Kent. He realized that he had been watching Clark just as Clark had been watching him. He was hopelessly, desperately in love.


	2. Bruce's Memories

Clark stumbled backward and braced himself against the wall as his vision blurred. He felt Bruce’s memories swirling around him, surrounding him as they crowded out his own thoughts. It was oddly painful to be so abruptly confronted with the intensely-private man’s personal experiences, but it was also natural–like Clark was seeing exactly what he was meant to. For the first time since meeting him, Clark felt like he might understand the inscrutable Batman.

Clark was in a place he didn’t recognize right away: an impossibly huge room, tall gothic windows, a smiling couple...Wayne Manor. Despite the grandiose decor, Clark felt so safe, so secure, so _loved_. Not even the bats would get him here–here he was invincible. A young Thomas Wayne was lifting him up, up, up, and Clark felt like he could touch the sun. Martha Wayne wrapped him in a hug that warmed his very core and he hoped–he expected–it would last forever.

And then, in a haze of confusion, it all ended. It was dark, and Clark was being pushed behind someone much larger than him. Two loud bangs and even louder screaming; it took him several seconds to recognize it as his own. He was on his knees, loose asphalt biting into his skin, and watching the light in his parents’ eyes go dim.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Clark felt numb, and then sad, and then angry. His legs were pumping and his lungs were aching, and he felt so angry he thought his soul might spontaneously combust. He wanted to hit things, and hurt people, and burn the whole fucking world down. He stayed angry.

The teenage years were hard; Clark felt the way Bruce had been filled alternately with unbearable boredom and intense rage. The only people who didn’t inspire annoyance were Alfred–looking slightly younger than Clark knew him now, but only very slightly–and Rachel.

One minute Rachel was tumbling through the grass with him, Wayne Manor looming imposingly but not frighteningly in the background, and then she was gone. Years passed without her, and Clark was trapped in Bruce’s inescapable loneliness. He was rarely alone but was always, always lonely. Clark had never been so grateful for his own childhood, as complicated as it had often been.

Entire years blurred past, and then Clark was standing in a courthouse with a gun in his hand. He felt blinding rage, but also a resigned sense of commitment–he’d been waiting for this moment for fourteen long, impossible years. He watched the man who had taken his life from him crumple to the floor, but felt no satisfaction. Even as Rachel berated him in the car, he felt nothing. No joy at seeing Joe Chill finally dead, no shame in disappointing Rachel, not even the anger that had been his constant companion since that night in the alleyway.

Clark was wandering the world aimlessly, still feeling nothing. He finally found his purpose in the mountains, ridding himself of fear with the League of Shadows. He threw himself into his work: fighting, meditating, burning. Clark felt Bruce’s horror as he learned of Ra’s al Ghul’s plans, and he was almost knocked off his feet as Bruce’s fierce protectiveness over Gotham washed through him for the first time. It was not unlike the way Clark felt about the Kent farm–like he would die to protect it and the people who called it home.

Bruce made his return, and Clark watched the Batman take shape. Bruce Wayne was flighty and promiscuous and frivolous by day, but he was always watching, always planning. Clark was stunned by just how calculating Bruce was in everything he did; Clark had always known Bruce to be intelligent and strategic, but experiencing everything that Bruce had done, tucked away alone in his cave, inspired new admiration from Clark.

Rachel was there again, but she faded steadily into the background as Bruce’s vigilante priorities took over. Villains passed Clark by in rapid succession, each one taken down by the Batman. Bruce’s long-held anger had transformed into mission-driven determination, but he was still empty.

And then Clark was seeing himself, the first time Bruce met him. He felt Bruce’s annoyance with the obtuse reporter from the Daily Planet (a feeling that had been mutual, if Clark remembered correctly). Batman’s first meeting with Superman hadn’t gone much better. But then Bruce had watched Clark–laughing with Barry, sparring with Diana, rolling his eyes at Arthur–and Clark felt Bruce’s annoyance turn to grudging respect, and he wasn’t quite so empty anymore.

Suddenly Bruce’s whirling memories slowed to one seemingly innocuous moment, and Clark was seeing himself through Bruce’s scrupulous eyes yet again. Bruce was watching Clark during a League meeting, as he often did to gauge the kryptonian’s reaction to various proceedings, when Clark caught his eye and broke into a smile so radiant that Bruce's heart skipped its next beat. Clark realized, with a force like a punch to the gut, that this was how Bruce saw him–as someone beautiful and powerful and strong, as someone worthy of not just admiration but devotion. Bruce loved him in a way so absolute that Clark almost wanted to cry. And he knew immediately that he loved Bruce the same. He was hopelessly, desperately in love.


End file.
